Page 123 of Prey for You

Sam might go to prison and they might stop me seeing him if Jeremy was successful in getting that no contactorder. What then? Would the nurse in the infirmary hear this testimony and pull Sam in toserviceher?

Rage, jealousy, and nausea swept through my body. My foot bobbed and jerked, my heel bounced like a jackhammer. I wanted to scream at the uptight people who were turning their noses up at Sam. I wanted to plead with Sam to stop thinking about these other women. I wanted to run away and ignore them all, because they were all picturingmedoing this and even though I wasn’t ashamed of it, I also didn’t want to share it with them.

My chest was a churning storm of emotions I couldn’t seem to turn off.

Sam looked at me.Just checked in. A bare glance, but I saw it in him—You okay?

And I wasn’t. I fucking wasn’t.

I turned my face. I fucking turned away and it was the wrong thing to do because it made him shaky—so then I was araging bitchas well.

I knew all this was in the past. I knew he didn’t love them like he loved me. I knew he was different now than he had been. I didn’t want him holding ontomysexual past. But this list of conquests and knowing half these listening women wanted him, and the other half were terrified… itgrated.

And that fucking lawyer kept going.

Prick.

“I don’t want confuse the issues of your sexual practices with consenting adults, and criminal behavior. So I’m going to ask you some rather private questions: Since you left prison, did you ever harm a woman in a way she wasn’t aware might happen and hadn’t given permission for you to do?”

“No,”Sam said emphatically. But I’d made him shaky. His hands were clenched in his lap. I stared at him, begging him to look again, but of course he wouldn’t because he needed to keep his focus andI fucking screwed it up.

“Did any of the women who engaged your services in this way ever complain or get angry or upset? Did any of thosewomen themselves ever file restraining orders—or make reports to Police—”

“Objection, Your Honor. Speculation. It is entirely possible this could have occurred without the defendant’s knowledge.”

“I’ll allow it,” the judge said without hesitation. “Answer the question, Mister Priestley.”

“No. At least, not that I’m aware of,” Sam said quickly.

“Was there ever a conversation, or interaction with authority that would indicate one of your clients wasn’t as happy with your interactions as you were?”

“No.”

“And how did your relationships with those women end?”

“In every case, I was able to build enough trust with them to talk them through the things that were hurting them, change their minds about wanting to die or self-destruct, and they ended the relationship by using the safe word. That was part of the original agreement: When they gave the safeword, either in person, or via text in some form, I would never pursue them again. At all.

“Once a woman gave me the safeword, I deleted all her information from my devices and never contacted her again. But some of those women referred other women to me. Most of my more recent clients came to me through word of mouth. Some I found online, but they always came to me. I didn’t pursue them.”

I knew it was right. Knew it was true. And knew it didn’t matter what I thought. It mattered what that jury heard or felt. And none of them looked impressed.

Sam’s lawyer completed his questions and walked back to his desk, but that gave our team a chance to ask. I held my breath—and was pleasantly surprised and deeply relieved that they didn’t redirect any questions to Sam. After all, these were the points they’d been so smug about in the depositions.

I should have known it wasn’t that simple.

40. Heave

~ BRIDGET ~

When Sam was told to take his seat, our lawyers called a new witness, and my stomach sank.

“Doctor Ramsay, could you please detail your qualifications in the field of Forensic Psychology for the court?”

“Certainly…” The woman on the stand looked to be in her late forties. She wore glasses, had her blonde hair down and styled perfectly. She wore a pantsuit, and not too much make up. She was talking about her career, outlining things she’d done and research she’d been involved in. But I couldn’t take any of it in.

I kept glancing at Sam’s back, sitting at the table between his lawyers, who kept leaning in and whispering to each other and to him. They seemed agitated.

But they were asked if they had any objections, and they declined.

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